Never Look Back
by RainyJ.T
Summary: All that I can say is please read it, there's not really anything I can say without giving it away. Peter/Neal slash.


**Okay, so I know that I have like, a million stories and one-shot compilations going, and I'm so sorry about that. Hell Hath No Fury is on major hold, one because I'm out of the Halloween spirit, and two because it's being a major pain and refuses to be written. A Dog's Eye View is kind of just being written when I'm bored or not really able to write anything. My one-shot compilations are the same, so yeah. **

**This thing, however, I am in love with. I hope that you like it as well. When you finish reading, I would love if you could tell me if I should continue this or not. I like it as a one-shot, but I like it as more as well. I've never seen anything on here quite like this, so I hope that you like it.**

An hour had passed since Neal's tracker went offline, and he was moving fast. It kept blinking back on for seconds at a time, but that little dot, the one thing that used to put Peter at ease, always disappeared again. The other agents in the bureau were doing their best to set up a timeline from traffic cameras, but they just weren't fast enough, no one could be. Neal was getting further and further away from them, further and further away from his home, but most importantly, he was getting further and further away from Peter. Everything was falling apart, for everyone involved, but the one who knew understood that it was for the best.

It didn't make it any easier.

Neal had softened Peter's hard exterior, though he would never admit it, and it was Peter who took the loss the hardest. The two were closer than anyone could understand, and that was the reason that Neal was running. Garret Fowler was intent on destroying them, on tearing them apart piece by piece. He began the music box scam to send Neal back to prison, and he took out Kate to tie up the loose ends. Mozzie had known too much, and Fowler hired an assassin to end his life. He had begun to realize that Peter was learning Neal's ways and had become quite the con artist himself. The agent had gained enough leverage to convince the higher ups that keeping Neal around was worth it, and Fowler finally put the pieces together. Neal wouldn't be going back to jail, and if he did he wouldn't stay.

Their relationship was tight, but Fowler had finally found a way to get the con artist out of the bureau once and for all. He was the only one that had the guts to investigate, and the bugs he had installed in the Burke's home revealed everything. The evidence was incriminating, not only for Neal, but Peter, too.

That was when Peter told Neal to run. "Promise me," he said, his grip painfully tight on Neal's forearms, those blue eyes wide with fear. "Promise me that you won't come back."

Peter knew that Neal would never survive another day in prison; he had served his four years a hundred times over. Neal knew it, too, and though the nod came slowly, it came all the same. Neal would run, and he would not be coming back. He would be free to do whatever he pleased, and he would never have to go back to prison. He would never be tied down again. Neal would be safe from the harsh eyes and heavy hands that he had come to know in New York. He could go to Paris or Rome, anywhere that his imagination could take him.

That didn't make it any easier, either.

"We got him," came a shout from the intern, standing excitedly in the doorway of Peter's office. He was bouncing up and down, anxiously awaiting praise for delivering the message. His pet had been found, shouldn't he be happy? It was exactly the opposite. Peter could have sworn that his heart had stopped. His eyes widened as he pushed past the intern whose name he couldn't remember. It wasn't important when Neal's freedom was on the line.

The chatter stopped as Peter made his way down the steps. Jones was the first one to speak up after what seemed like an eternity had passed. "We found the taxi that he was seen entering, but there is no telling if he is actually inside. We don't have a visual on him. He may be lying low, or he may still be somewhere close by."

"That doesn't explain the tracking location, there is no way that he could have gotten the anklet off and still have it transmitting!" Another agent spoke up. "He has to be in that taxi, there is no other explanation!"

"Neal is smart. If anyone could find a way, it would be him." Peter said, attempting to divert attention from that taxi. He knew as well as that agent did that there was a limited chance that Neal was not there. It wouldn't still be transmitting if he cut it. Peter ran a shaking hand through his hair and sighed. "I need coffee."

"Boss, why don't you go out? You need a break more than any of us. We'll call you if we find anything," Diana said softly, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder and blocking his path to the machine. She knew about the relationship between Neal and Peter, and she thought his stress was from disappointment that Neal had run. She didn't know that Peter was the one who told him to go. But even so, she was right. He nodded and pulled on his jacket, making his way toward the elevators.

It didn't take him long to get to his favorite coffee shop, just a few minutes from the bureau. He had always gone there with Neal during their lunch break. It was small, and had outdoor seating only, saving the inside for the lines that tended to build up quickly. There was no line today. Peter ordered and went to sit, taking note of the soft snow that had begun to fall. It was not enough to stick, but it was beautiful all the same. Neal probably loved it, if he was still nearby.

The thought only made it harder.

Peter watched as the snowflakes melted into his coffee, but he didn't drink it. It didn't feel right without Neal. It should have been pouring; there should have been black clouds and thunderstorms, not this beautiful snowfall. Neal was gone; nothing was _allowed _to be beautiful. He let his head to fall into his hands. He couldn't do this, he couldn't stay strong.

"Is this seat taken?" A soft voice asked. Peter shook his head, but didn't look up. The man that had spoken sounded too much like Neal, he couldn't stand it. A few moments passed before the person spoke again, gently whispering, "your coffee is getting cold, Peter."

"How did-" Peter looked up, and his heart skipped a beat. He just stared for what seemed like hours, wide eyed and jaw hanging open. Neal was here, sitting next to him with that stupid grin of his. His blue eyes were sparkling behind fake glasses, and he had opted for a brown knit beanie instead of his usual fedora. He looked completely different, but exactly the same. After all, the best way to hide is to not hide at all, he always said. Peter was still staring when he realized that not only was Neal not in that taxi, running away from him, but they were only a few minutes away from the bureau.

"Damn it, Neal!" He hissed, clenching his hand into a fist next to his now cold coffee. "You promised me!"

"Yeah, because you were obviously taking that _so_ well," Neal stated, taking a sip from his own cup of coffee. Peter was furious. How could Neal be so calm? How could he not be screaming from the stress? If he was caught, he would be sent back to prison for life. Did he not understand what was at stake? "Peter, I'm not going to leave you. We go together or we don't go at all."

"What are you talking about?"

"I have connections. I can get us both out of here right now, it's up to you." Those blue eyes were burning behind his glasses. He knew what he was doing, and if anyone could disappear it was Neal Caffrey. But Peter didn't know if he could get involved. He had always been an honest man; he was one of the top agents in the bureau. His reputation was nothing but gold stars and promotions, and the only ticket he had ever gotten was for speeding in his attempt to catch Neal before they had become partners—back when he still called him Caffrey. Peter Burke had never strayed from the beaten path, but he had come to a fork in the road. One of those paths held Neal. The other held an orange jumpsuit.

How far would Peter go to keep Neal out of prison? He ran his hands through his hair, pressing his palms into his eyes. A gentle hand gripped his, pulling it away from his face. "Peter, I know what you're thinking. We can get out of the country. We don't have to get involved in any cons if you don't want to. It's all up to you. Whatever you decide, I'll stick to it one hundred percent."

"Neal…"

"Elizabeth can come, too." Neal's calm exterior was beginning to fade now, clutching at promises and excuses.

"No, she was done a long time ago."

It was true, Elizabeth had seen what was going on between Peter and Neal before either of them had. She had known that it was coming to an end, and she had known that it was only a matter of time before Peter did, too. She didn't deserve what Peter was doing to her, she deserved someone better. He realized then, that he didn't have anything left. Elizabeth wouldn't stick around for much longer, and his job at the bureau wouldn't last once Fowler's investigation went public. Neal was the only one left.

"Neal," Peter started, but was cut off.

"Look, there's only so much time before they realize that you've been gone too long for a coffee break."

"Let me finish, Neal." Peter said, putting up a hand. He waited until he received a nod from the other. "You look _horrible_ in orange."

It took Neal a moment to understand what was happening, that Peter had agreed to put everything that he knew behind. That they would be out of this place, no longer tied down by boundaries and rules, no longer kept from the one thing they wanted most. Neal held out his hand and asked, "Never look back?"

"Never look back."

And that, _that_ made it easier.


End file.
